Project Freelancer- unknown agents: Arizona
by TryforFirstTry
Summary: Have you ever wondered about the other Freelancers' stories were? Watch as another part of Project Freelancer unfolds as it follows Agent Arizona. (Cover credit goes to my friend)
1. Arizona

_**(Well! Here it is! It was determined that the next story would follow Arizona, so please do enjoy, and if you have questions or suggestions, PM me/ review. Thanks!) **_

Matthew ran his fingers through his short dirty blonde hair and sighed rather tiredly; it had taken him about three hours, just to drive down to the area stated on the tightly folded letter in his hand. He was seated in a standard U.N.S.C. Pelican. Currently, he was the only person other than the pilot aboard the ship, his khaki-brown and red highlighted Mark VI helmet resting on his lap.

The sound of heavy boots crunching against the gravel outside reached his ears. He perked up, staring at the open rear hatch.

A rather feminine looking soldier, though it was a bit hard to tell since the person was wearing their helmet, and the seafoam green and black highlighted armor looked slightly heavier than the typical variant of her armor masked most of the features. She entered the small plane and sat opposite of Matthew.

"Hi," he greeted the soldier with a warm smile, relived to finally have someone to talk to. He recieved a small wave back.

"Who're you?" she - the voice confirmed it- asked him in a quieter voice than that of normal pitch.

He unfolded the paper in his hand, glancing at his assigned codename. "Arizona."

"Louisiana," she said, extending a hand. He shook it as he refolded the paper along the tight creases.

He leaned back in his seat, staring curiously at this new arrival. "Anyone else come along with you?"

She shook her head and mumbled, "Not anyone I know personally... took a bus."

He shrugged as he slipped on his Mark VI helmet.

A minute or so later, the Pelican started to fill up with the freelancer recruits, all differently armored and colored: a dark gray and indigo; a female agent with a Hayabusa-type left shoulderpad and chestplate (the other parts of her armor were Mark VI) in the color of midnight blue and a luminous aqua as her secondary; a coral and brown agent had followed them shortly; a rather tall person with bright green and white amror: an EOD helmet with CQB armpieces; finally, a leather-brown and slate blue female adorned with an old Mark V model helmet took her seat with the rest of the girls on the left side of the Pelican.

"So," the dark gray soldier said from beside him. "Hi. I'm Wisconsin."

"Arizona," he responded with a small wave. "That's Louisiana, by the way," he added, pointing to the seafoam green soldier opposite him.

"Okay, people. Leaving orbit in five," the pilot's gravelly voice came over the PA.

"Minutes or seconds?" asked the dark blue. She was answered as the engines roared to life and she along with a few others who hadn't strapped themselves in started to drift upwards. "Oh, shit - nevermind!" she said nervously and gripped the edges of her seat tightly.

"Any of you guys remember the name of this ship?" questioned Louisiana.

"The Mother Of Invention, right?" Arizona said, half guessing.

"Yep," said the bright green soldier with a nod.

The rest of the trip consisted of them introducing themselves to one another and general chatter. The dark blue was called Missouri, the leather-brown was Kentucky, the bright green was codenamed Illinois, the coral one was Delaware, Wisonsin was the gray-indigo, and of course, Louisiana and himself spoke up.

"Opening the rear hatch." the pilot announced into the PA.

"Damn, we're already here?" said Kentucky in surprise as an enormous, wide room filled with generous amounts other planes, supplies, pilots, and a few agents here and there.

"Welcome to your new home," said the pilot from the door of the cockpit.

"Thanks," Arizona said to him as he exited the Pelican.

"This is where we'll live now?" said Louisiana from beside him. Now that they were standing up, he noticed that she was about a quarter a head shorter than him.

"Suppose so." He couldn't help but grin at Louisiana looking all around the huge hangar in amazement. Her head swiveled in all directions as she truned around on her heel.

"Please follow me," someone said from his left. He looked away from Louisiana's turning form to see a tall, dark man in what was evidently a crew member uniform. His voice was a flat, put-someone-to-sleep monotone. "The Director would like me to assist in showing the arrivals around.

Without further ado and a few shrugs exchanged, the small group of recruits followed the man, more than one of them engulfed in excitement.


	2. Chapter 2

_**Living Quarter 09, Mother Of Invention**_

_**An hour and a half after the previous chapter...**_

Arizona watched his new roommate neaten her bottom bunk. Coincidentally, Louisiana had been paired with him; she didn't seem to talk much or mind that her partner was male. Arizona did feel a bit strange being paired with her, but mainly since akward moments tended to occur due to her silence.

He cleared his throat. She looked over her shoulder at him as she smoothed the sheets she'd finished applying and turned around to face him.

"Yeah?"

"How come you're so... quiet?"

She shrugged and sat down on her bunk. "I was taught not to be heard. I was just a backup soldier before being drafted here."

"Ah," he said with a small nod.

"Even though that mainly applied when I was around superiors, it was quite often; what were you?"

He smiled rather widely. "Grenadier."

She cocked her head at him, curious and her foot moved slightly as though to take a caution-driven step back. He couldn't tell if the gesture was a joking one or not as she still had her helmet on. He squinted closely at the orange, reflective visor.

"What?" she said uncomfortably, looking around her. "How come you're making that face?"

"Nothing," he replied. "You wouldn't happen to remember where the mess hall is on this thing, would you?" he added as his stomach growled.

She thought about it for a while. "Eh... No."

His stomach growled again, more audibly this time. "Then fuck it - Im'na go look for it. I'm starving. Mind coming with me?" He slipped his helmet on and held open the door for her.

She merely shrugged and went through the door.

A while after walking down endless and confusing hallways, they came to two other Freelancers in the middle of one of the upper corridors, seemingly arguing. One had goldenrod-yellow and red armor, which consisted of a standard helmet and chestplate, but hayabusa on his upper arms; the other had palish green-and-cobalt and was wearing a C.Q.B. helmet and armpieces, along with an E.O.D. chestplate.

"-I'm telling you, it's that way," the yellow said exasperatedly.

"No, it has to be in that direction," argued the green, pointing left to another corridor.

"Yeah, 'cause you've got such flawless memory."

"Oh, we're bringing that up now, are we?" retorted the green, arms folded.

"Er-" Arizona said akwardly, making the two look in his and Louisiana's direction. "Is... something wrong?"

"We're just arguing over which way the locker room is," snapped the green, agitated. The yellow nudged her and hissed something about, "Don't be rude!"

"Sorry," the yellow said, stepping in front of his friend, "but do you remember where it is?"

Arizona shrugged, racking his brains.

"To the left and up," Louisiana said as though she had swallowed the ship's schematics.

"Told you," commented the green. The yellow turned to her, undoubtably giving her a _really? _sort of look.

"But before you go, can you please point us to the direction of the cafeteria?" Arizona asked quickly.

"Sure. But why don't you come with us?" suggested the green, who no longer seemed agitated. "You still have your armor on."

Arizona shrugged once more and followed the yellow's form.

"At least tell us your names?" said Louisiana from his right.

"Oh! Derp," the green said, facing them and starting to walk backwards as she talked with them. "I'm Arkansas, and he's my half-brother, Vermont. Who're you?"

"He's called Arizona," replied the sea-foam green soldier. "I'm Louisiana."

"Louisiana?" asked the green - Arkansas. "Name's a bit long; mind if I call you Lou?"

"Hm?"

"Y'know, like a nickname. He calls Tennessee Tenn." She jerked a thumb at her brother.

"I... suppose it's alright," she said. Unless his ears were decieving him, she sounded surprised at having a nickname.

"Lou," commented Arizona. "I like that."

She simply shrugged and walked alongside him after the other two._

When he opened his locker, he saw that it was a space just large enough to fit his armor into. There were a few other items inside it, such as a fairly sized drawstring bag, and a set of clothes; coincidentally, the clothes were the same colors as his armor: a red shirt and a pair of khaki pants; a red light jacket was included for overwear. He half-wondered who had picked those specific colors; they had all assigned with specific colors, but had been able to keep their typical preferences of armor.

Vermont peeked into Arizona's locker. "Yours too, huh?"

He glanced at his; the contents were almost exactly the same: drawstring bag and a fair amount of space. The only difference was the clothing - a yellow polo with a red collar and yellowish khaki pants, and a goldenrod yellow zip-up jacket.

"Why do you reckon they gave us these colors?" asked Arizona as he began to remove his armor.

"Why're you asking me?" Vermont said, his voice slightly muffled as he fumbled with his helmet.

"Cause I haven't got a clue about why."

"Meh," he replied.

"You know anything about the A.I. they're supposedly experimenting with?"

"Nope."

"What a bounty of info," he snorted.

"Hey, you don't know, either!" Vermont said apprehensively.

He shrugged as best he could while removing the armor pieces covering his forearm and shoulder.

Vermont plunked down on the bench beside him, tugging vicously at his left boot. Arizona looked curiously over at him.

"Permenantly damaged - don't question it," he growled as he continued to try prying the boot from his foot.

"Accident?" Arizona guessed.

Vermont turned to him as he nodded, showing his face. He looked fairly young, but with more than an average amount of experience. The left side of it was vaguely riddled with scars, one half-arching over the bridge of his nose; the other side was covered with straggly mahogany-colored hair, making his visble jet-black eye stand out. The area around his eye was remarkably smooth compared to the rest of his rather rough face.

"Surprised?" he asked, catching Arizona's raised eyebrows and gesturing towards his face.

"Mildly," he responded.

He smiled, making his features slightly more dominant; it almost looked a intimidating, to be honest. But it was good to know that he _did_ smile.

"What happened?"

"Like you said: accident."

"How... specific."

"Don't be a dick," he said with a chuckle.

Arizona shrugged.

"What's so funny?" came Arkansas' voice from another row of lockers.

"Nothing!" they chorused simultaneously.

"Suuuure," she replied disbelievingly; unsurpisingly, no word came from Louisiana. Vermont banged a fist against his locker loudly and recieved one in return.

"Up yours, numbnuts!"

"Likewise, moron." Vermont taunted calmly back.

"Is this... normal for you two?" asked Arizona.

"Well, duhr," he said.

"Are you the younger or older one?"

"I'm the old_est_," he said.

" '-Est'? How many siblings do you have?"

"Two: Arkansas, of course, and a younger brother; he just entered boot camp."

Arizona tilted his head curiously at him. "Really? What's that like?"

"A lot of time being annoyed, fighting, and remembering that shit happens," he said promptly.

"Indeed," Arkansas added.

"Oh."

"What, are you disappointed? What'd you expect?"

"I don't know, that's why I asked you!"

Vermont rolled his eyes. "Why is that how most people react?"

"Mind finishing up a bit faster?" someone said quietly.

Arizona turned to the source of the voice and saw one of the girls - probably Lou, based on the color scheme - half leaning against the wall with her hands deep in the pockets of a sea-foam green hoodie over a pair of dark slacks. A tomboy crew cut half-swept over slim, greenish gray eyes, which had slight circles under them.

"Yeah, come on!" said Arkansas as she came around the corner. She had a similar outfit compared to Lou's, except that her jacket was a pale green and jeans. Hair slightly darker than her brother's hung over her shoulder and her dark brown eyes shone with excitement.

"Don't be so impatient," Vermont scolded his sister.

She tauntingly stuck her tongue out at him as she went quickly past them and out the door. He quickly pulled his shirt and jacket over himself and scurried out after her. Louisiana waited quietly by its frame for Arizona, who was struggling with a jammed zipper.

"Hold up, guys!" he called as he opened the door hurriedly, Lou following him closely.

"I think they went that way," she said behind him, pointing the the right.

"Oh, goddammit," he sighed. "I'm too lazy for shit like chasing people. That's what grenades are for - getting the runners."

Lou sidled away from him slightly. "...you are a very strange person."


End file.
